AN: Hi guys, and happy holidays – I can't believe I forgot when I posted the last chapter! I hope you're all enjoying your time off (if you get any) and get to spend time with your loved ones :)

As always, I don't own anything relating to The 100

Chapter title from "Be My Girl" by John and Jacob

5

So Come a Little Bit Closer Where You and I Can Begin

They leave the library and emerge into the weak fall sunlight. Another beautiful day. For the first time in over two weeks, it doesn't annoy Clarke because now, it doesn't feel like the weather is mocking her and her dark mood. She takes a moment to breathe in the crisp air, turning her face to the sun.

"It's this way," she then says, nodding towards the crossing over Eastern Parkway.

"Is this your go-to place when you're working?" Bellamy asks while they wait for the light to turn green.

"I guess you can say that," she replies. "I usually treat myself to their brunch at least once a week, either Saturday or Sunday, depending on my schedule."

She has four shifts at the library a week, two homework sessions during weekdays and two story sessions on the weekend, alternating morning and afternoon, so when she has a morning shift on Saturday, she does brunch on Saturday, and same on Sunday. She's in no way addicted to Cheryl's amazing food. Nope.

"I haven't been in this part of the city a lot, so it's not that familiar to me," he admits as they cross the street. "I usually stick to Forest Hills and the surrounding areas, even though my work does take me all over the city."

"No work today?" Clarke asks, and he shakes his head.

"I worked yesterday, I always have one day off during the weekend and one weekday off." He grimaces a little. "Though most of my free time is sucked up by school work, to be honest."

"Then I'm extra honored that you took the time to see me," she says with a sideways smile. "Though, speaking of… how exactly did you know I was here?"

She has a sneaking suspicion that Raven might have had something to do with it, not trusting Clarke to actually re-evaluate the situation like she had promised. She would have thought her friend would give her a little more time before taking things into her own hands, but then again, this is Raven.

Bellamy gives her a sheepish half-smile and she's almost sure she detects a hint of a blush at the tips of his ears. "Well, I didn't want to come off as an actual stalker to your friends, so I didn't want to ask them," he starts. "So I kind of… I called a couple of libraries to ask if they had someone by your name on the payroll."

Clarke digests that information for a moment. She's glad Raven obviously has a bit more faith in her than she thought. And weird as it may seem, it's kind of flattering that Bellamy would go to all that trouble, that he thinks she's worth it… even if it is kind of borderline stalker behavior.

"I'm not sure you're doing all that well with the whole not acting like a stalker, if I'm honest," she says eventually, but loops her arm through his to show that she's only teasing him. "Can they even tell you that? It seems like it must break some sort of confidentiality law."

"They couldn't, no," he replies. "But I think the woman I talked to at this place took pity on me. I had already called, like, five different libraries, getting the standard 'we're not at liberty to tell you that' answer from all of them and I was getting a little desperate… she didn't really tell me anything, though, she said something like she couldn't confirm or deny that, but if I wanted to find out for myself I might want to stop by between two and three thirty on Saturday or eleven and twelve thirty on Sunday. I would have come yesterday, but I had work, so…"

Clarke can't help but laugh at that. "That'd be Vera, she's a sweetheart but a busybody and gossip like you wouldn't believe. She's been trying to set me up with every single man and woman between the ages of twenty and thirty-five since I started working there." She pauses. "But I'm actually surprised this hasn't gotten back to me – a boy calling about Clarke Griffin? That's big news around here."

Bellamy joins in her laughter, sounding more than a little relieved.

They manage to get a table at Cheryl's, which isn't a given on a Sunday – Clarke has had to get her food to go more than once. The waitress takes their drink orders and then leaves them to peruse the menu. Not that Clarke needs to, she has it committed to memory by now. So instead, she watches Bellamy, noting the way his eyes move over the page, how his brows furrow just a little when he stops at something and his lips move, almost like he's reading quietly to himself.

"Anything look good?" she asks after a few minutes.

He looks up from the menu. "Everything looks good. What are you getting?"

"I have a couple of favorites that I alternate between, today's pancake day," she tells him. "But, yeah, everything is good, you really can't go wrong no matter what you pick."

He closes the menu and puts it aside. "Well, the pancakes look very tempting but I think I'll get the eggs, bacon and toast."

"Good choice," Clarke replies with a smile.

The waitress returns with their drinks at that moment, and they put in their order for food as well.

"So…" Bellamy starts when she's left again. "Considering you're sitting here with me, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I haven't completely scared you off by showing up unannounced at your place of work after invading your privacy and quite possibly committing a felony to find you?"

She considers him for a moment, a slight tension still obvious in the way he's fidgeting with the napkin and only meets her eyes briefly before looking down at his drink.

"Nope," she finally says, watching his shoulders relax. "I know you probably won't believe me, but I was going to get Zeke to ask Miller for your number."

She hadn't actually come to that conclusion yet, but considering Raven's little speech already had her resolve wavering, she's pretty sure she would have, so it's not really a lie.

Bellamy raises an eyebrow. "You're right, I'm not sure I believe that."

"That's fair," she says with a grimace. "I was just… like I said, it felt like things were moving a little too fast. It's not that I didn't want you to kiss me, I really did, but in the moment… I think I was a little overwhelmed. Not by you, just… it's been a while since I felt like that."

That much is true, it's been decades since she's felt the way she feels about Bellamy, if she ever has. She loved both Lexa and Wells, but this… this is already on another level. Which scares her, and not just because of his Number.

"I get that, and I really don't want to be some rebound," he says. "So if that's what this will be to you, just tell me now."

Clarke quickly shakes her head. "No, that's not… no. I freaked out, yes, but not because I'm not over her, because I am."

Even though her relationship with Lexa is the one that's furthest away timewise, she can't imagine using her relationship with Wells as a difficult breakup. Plus, it's a nice test to see if Bellamy has some sort of reaction to the 'her' part. Maybe he's completely biphobic and she can write him off after all.

But he just nods.

"The breakup was rough?" he asks.

"It wasn't easy," Clarke replies with a shrug. "I thought things were fine and then she just told me, completely out of the blue, that she'd accepted a job offer in Australia and was leaving in a month."

He freezes with his orange juice halfway to his mouth. "Did she expect you to just up and leave everything to go with her?"

"No, she thought we could use some time away from each other, that we'd been drifting apart," she says. "Which, OK, now that I can look at it objectively, she was right. But at the time, it was hard to hear."

"I'm sorry," Bellamy offers. "So she's in Australia now?"

Last she'd heard, back in the seventies or something, Lexa had been in South America somewhere. Clarke definitely hasn't been keeping track of her, but they have common acquaintances so she does hear about her now and then.

"I would think so, but we haven't actually had any contact since she left," she hedges a little, hating to flat-out lie. It's a difficult balancing act, trying to be as truthful as possible without revealing too much. Another reason she never really gets too close to Norms – it's so much work to just maintain a normal relationship.

He nods slowly. "I can't say I've been in that kind of position, but breakups are never easy."

She wants to ask about what is obviously a personal experience, but the waitress brings their food and distracts them both.

"Wow!" Bellamy exclaims when she's left. "This looks amazing. But those pancakes… I might be having second thoughts here."

Clarke cuts a piece of pancake and pops it into her mouth along with some berries and cream. "Mmmm…"

His eyes narrow at her, and she laughs.

"Tell you what – I'll trade you one pancake for some eggs and a slice of toast."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I should eat something a little less sugary, so really, you're helping me out here."

They shift the food on their plates around a little, making enough room so Clarke can move one of her pancakes and some berries to Bellamy's plate, and get a slice of toast, some scrambled eggs and a couple of pieces of home fries in return.

"I swear, their scrambled eggs are to die for," she says after swallowing a mouthful.

"I'm with you on that one," he agrees, soaking some of the toast in the fat from the bacon before taking a bite. "This is definitely worth the forty minute drive."

"And here I thought I was the main attraction," she retorts, teasing.

"Sorry, you've been demoted to second place," Bellamy shoots back without missing a beat.

"Well, I guess I can take that, if it's for this food… as long as I'm still up there."

"Top three reasons to come to Brooklyn, for sure."

Clarke smiles at that, and their eyes meet and lock for a long moment, food temporarily forgotten. She swears she can feel the electricity surge between them, and she thinks he does too, because his eyes darken and she can see his fingers tightening around his fork.

She's the first to force her eyes away, looking down to cut another piece of her pancake.

"So, Forest Hills," she says after swallowing, hoping her voice doesn't sound as shaky as it feels, and tries not to think about what he'd be able to do to her if he actually got his hands on her, considering just a look has her this worked up. "Born and raised or how did you end up there?"

Bellamy seems to have snapped out of the moment as well, focusing on his food again.

"My mom's originally from Chicago, but she left when she was eighteen. I was born in Detroit about a year and a half later and then we moved to New Jersey when I was… four," he says. "Paterson. I lived there until… seven years ago, when my sister moved out. I could have stayed, I guess, my commute to work wasn't that much longer than it is now, but an old high school friend asked if I wanted to move into his place, since he had a spare bedroom. His grandfather had just moved into a retirement home, and Miller had been living with him for a while so he would be able to take over his rent controlled apartment in Forest Hills. It was a no brainer, really, considering how much the same type of apartment would cost somewhere else."

"That's, like, a pot of gold," Clarke notes, voice full of awe. "A rent controlled apartment in New York City… I thought they were a myth."

She lived in a rent controlled apartment before she bought her current place back in the forties, but these days it's basically impossible to get them.

Bellamy chuckles. "Yeah, that's what I thought too. I figure I used up a life-time of luck on that apartment."

"Are you sure you didn't sign a contract from someone with a pointy tail and horns?" she jokes. "Perhaps giving up your soul, or your first-born?"

"I knew the landlord looked a little odd!"

They both laugh for a moment.

"How about you? You said you inherited your apartment from your parents, so you didn't really pick Brooklyn, I guess?"

Clarke shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee to be able to think through her answer. "I mean, I could have sold the apartment and kept my childhood home, or sold both and bought something else entirely. But I always loved that apartment – when my grandpa bought it, it was the top floor of an old factory, and he turned it into an apartment but it still has that feel, you know?"

He nods. "Your grandfather must have been ahead of his time, doing a New York style loft apartment in the eighties."

"I guess so," she replies with a shrug. Actually, Raven has told her the same thing as a joke more than once, how Clarke's the originator behind that type of living and should get credit for it. "After I graduated from college, I didn't really know what I wanted to do… I was lucky, in a way, I could sell the house my parents left me and live in my apartment. It gave me some time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life."

"Which you have?" Bellamy asks.

She laughs. "For now, at least. I mean, in the long run I'd like to work with art, but it takes time to get there… I'm happy where I am right now."

"That's a good place to be," he agrees with a half-smile.

"It is… and you? History degree, so what's your dream?"

Bellamy pushes the last pieces of eggs around his plate for a moment.

"I don't know," he then says. "I'm not sure what you can actually do with a history degree, to be honest. I've been considering getting a teaching certificate, actually. I don't know if it's a dream, but I think I'd like that, teaching kids about history… maybe I can help someone in a difficult situation, offer them an escape the way history and mythology offered me when I was a kid."

The fact that he'll never get to find that out cuts like a knife into Clarke's chest. It's just not fair – why shouldn't Bellamy get that? She just knows he'd make an amazing teacher, why should the world be deprived of that?

"That sounds nice," she manages to get out, swallowing down the lump that's formed in her throat.

"We'll see," he replies. "I still have a year and a half left before I get my Bachelors, I might have changed my mind by then."

You won't, she almost blurts out. You'll never get your degree, because you won't live long enough.

"You'll figure it out," she says instead.

Her phone, which has been buzzing on and off since she sent the text to Raven, gives an extra long buzz in her pocket – the alarm she's set for when she would need to get ready to leave for her four o'clock Transfer – and Clarke glances at her watch. Two thirty. It's about a ten minute walk to the station on 7th Avenue, then maybe twenty minutes on the train to Broadway-Lafayette and finally another ten or so to the restaurant on East 2nd Street where the Transfer is.

"You need to get going?" Bellamy asks, having spotted it.

"I need to be in the East Village by four, so not for half an hour or so," she replies with a smile. "No need to rush." Still, she nods at the waitress so they can pay and not have to worry about that when she has to leave.

"Another library shift?"

He already thinks that's her job, so why not? "Yeah, I read to younger kids at a couple of different libraries in the city on the weekends, and then I help older kids with their homework in the afternoons on the weekdays. It doesn't quite add up to full time, but I have time for my art, and since I don't have to pay rent, with the pieces I sell I get by fine."

"What kind of paintings do you do?"

"It varies a lot," Clarke tells him. "I take some commissions, so then I usually get either a general spec, or an actual image people want reproduced – photos of family, friends, pets…"

Bellamy nods. "And if you just paint for you?"

"It depends on my mood. I prefer abstract motifs – when I'm happy I usually pick bright colors, and when I'm not I tend to lean more towards darker."

"Do you have anything in the store now?"

"I do, actually. Do you want to see?"

"I'd love to," he says with a smile.

Clarke moves her chair around the table so he can see the screen easier and pulls out her phone. She has five texts from Raven, but she ignores them for now. She'll already be pissed, she can wait a little longer. She opens her Etsy page and Bellamy leans in closer.

"So that one's a happy painting?" he asks, pointing at the first painting.

It's one that's been in the store for a couple of months – bold brushstrokes in bright blue and green, which makes Clarke think of the ocean.

"Yeah, it is."

"But not that one?"

The second painting is one she finished just a few days ago and the difference is striking – the strokes are still bold, but angrier in this one, and the color palette is black, grey and blood red.

"That obvious, huh?" she says with a chuckle.

"They're both beautiful, though," Bellamy replies, scrutinizing the third painting on the screen. "Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I like them. You're seriously talented."

Clarke feels herself blush a little, like she always does when someone compliments her art. "Thank you."

Their waitress pops up with the check and they spend a few minutes arguing over who's paying – in the end, they split it down the middle.

When the waitress has left with the money, Clarke again glances at her watch. Two fifty-seven. She groans.

"Now I really do need to leave," she says with a frown.

"Right, let's go."

Bellamy helps her put her coat back on and holds the door open for her. They head back the way they came and paus at the parkway.

"I'm going that way, catching the train on 7," Clarke says, nodding to their right. "You drove? Where did you park?"

"Over on St. Johns," he replies. "So we're going the same way for a little longer."

"Come on, then."

She loops her arm through his and they head off through the chilly afternoon – the sun has disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds while they were at the diner.

They walk in silence, again stopping when they reach the corner of Plaza and St. John.

"I guess this is my exit," Bellamy says with a half-smile, making no move to go.

"Guess it is."

"So… can I call you this time?"

Clarke rolls her eyes at the teasing tone in his voice. "Give me your phone."

He takes a step away from her, instantly making her miss his warmth pressed against her side, and pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket, unlocking it before handing it to her. She puts her number into his contacts before giving it back.

Instead of putting the phone away, he clicks the screen and a moment later, Clarke's phone starts buzzing in her pocket.

"You really don't trust me, do you?" she says amusedly, pulling the phone out and clicking to reject the call.

Bellamy just raises an eyebrow. "Can you blame me? We have this amazing night and then you run off as soon as I kiss you, literally leaving me standing in the middle of the street."

Clarke can't help but blush. "Right… touché. What can I do to make it up to you?"

He starts walking backwards, maintaining eye contact. "Answer when I call you."

Clarke laughs. "I can do that."

"You better."

Bellamy raises a hand in a half-wave, which she returns, and then turns away from her, disappearing into the parking garage after a moment. She takes a deep breath before turning around herself.

Her phone, which is still in her hand, buzzes just after she's crossed the street and she expects it to be another text from Raven. Instead, it's from an un-known number.

I had a good time today. Thanks
for not calling security on me.

She smiles and is just about to click to add the number to her contacts when another text comes in.

This is Bellamy, by the way.
In case that wasn't clear.

Of course he texts with perfect grammar and punctuation. She sends a message back before finally adding his number.

I kind of figured that out

Just wanted to make sure.

She crosses another street before typing out her reply.

I had a good time too

I'm glad I didn't call security ;-)

She closes down her messages, still ignoring the ones from Raven, and opens her work app to make sure there hasn't been any changes to her Transfer.

Margaret Jones, female, 87. November 18, 4:05 PM. COD: cerebrovascular disease. The coordinates haven't changed, and Clarke closes the app down.

Bellamy hasn't responded, and she assumes it's because he's driving, so she's surprised when her phone buzzes a few minutes later, just as she's reached the subway station.

The impression every guy wants
to make on a first date.

She actually laughs out loud as she reads the message, getting a weird look from a couple of teenage boys coming up the stairs.

I hope you're not driving and
texting

His reply comes a moment later.

Red light.

She types out a final response before descending into the station.

About to hop on the train, might
lose service. Drive safe!

She gets a thumbs up in return and puts the phone away to be able to swipe her MetroCard.

Once she's on the train, she finally opens Raven's messages – she's sent seven in the last two and a half hours.

no, Y?

he there?

hello?

srsly, w s happening?

u can't just send that and
disappear _

i'm assuming ur ignoring me
bc ur getting laid :-P hf

call me when u can

Raven's big on keeping her text messages short and loves using emojis and abbreviations – especially ones that Clarke doesn't get. She'd like to think she's getting better at it, though, she understands everything in these messages… except maybe hf.

Sometimes she suspects that Raven makes up new abbreviations just to mess with her.

Instead of replying to all the messages, she taps to call her friend.

"Well, finally!" she answers after half a ring.

"Sorry, lost track of time," Clarke apologizes.

"Having sex, I hope? Though it's been over two and a half hours… so if you were, congrats."

Clarke snorts. "God, you're seriously way too obsessed with me getting laid. Sorry to burst your bubble, we just went for brunch."

"We being you and Bellamy at least, right?"

"Yeah," she confirms with a sigh.

"So… how's that resolve doing? Will you be able to stay away from him or did he manage to change your mind?"

Clarke remembers the way her heartrate picked up when she saw Bellamy at the library earlier, and the way her stomach dropped with disappointment when she thought he had left. No, she knows it's best to just admit defeat and embrace the situation.

"No resolve left," she admits. "I mean, your little speech yesterday already had me wavering, and I can't… just thinking that I might not see him again makes my stomach hurt."

It's true, she has a lead weight in her stomach just talking about it.

"Aw, babe…" Raven sighs over the line. "No matter how this turns out, I don't think you'll regret taking this chance."

The train's approaching her stop, so Clarke moves through the cart to the doors.

"I'm not so sure about that…" she replies after a moment.

"Whatever happens, I'm here." Raven's promise is unnecessary – Clarke already knows this – but it still makes her feel better.

"I know."

"So did you make plans, or are you just going to continue bumping into each other all over town?"

The switch to a slightly lighter topic is a relief. "We didn't make any plans, no, but he insisted on calling me this time, and we've been texting since we split up."

"OK, good start. Listen, babe, I've got to run but keep me posted. And try not to overthink this, please."

Clarke knows that there's no way she won't do that, but she still promises Raven before hanging up the phone and getting off the train.

She has a new message from Bellamy when she emerges onto the street again, sent a few minutes ago while she was speaking to Raven.

Why is everyone and their uncle
out driving today? Been stuck at
the light on Jamaica/Pennsylvania
for ten minutes!

She giggles at the annoyed tone that somehow comes across even in the text and quickly types back.

Hang in there :-) At work soon,
talk later?

It's started raining a little by now, and Clarke pulls her hood up over her hair as she sets out on Houston. She has fifteen minutes to spare, so she picks up her pace a little, weaving between people and ducking for umbrellas.

The block where her goal is located is a standard New York residential area with fire escapes climbing the brick facades as far as she can see. The restaurant is housed in the bottom floor of one of these buildings, and Clarke tries to peak through the windows discretely as she passes. She doesn't see much, but it's fine, it's not like she needs visual confirmation of her assignment. She does prefer it, but that's just a personal hang-up, it doesn't actually affect the Transfer in any way.

There are no benches close to the restaurant, so she leans against the wall just past it instead. She would ideally like to be sitting down, but she figures it'll look suspicious if she sits down on the sidewalk, so this will have to do.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket to check the time. 4:03. Any minute now.

Just as she's about to put the phone back, there's another text from Bellamy.

Definitely :-) Home now.
Have fun at work.

The smiley makes Clarke smile too, and she stares at the message for a moment before finally putting the phone away.

Just in time for the memories to wash over her.